Zombies In Hillwood
by geek-bait
Summary: Zombies have broken out in Hillwood! Arnold and Gerald have been on the run since the outbreak, never seeing another living person until they're taking to a base for breathers by two forgotten girls from their past. (Rated T for violence and language. Might go up to M later on, we'll see. TJM hasn't happened in this story)
1. Chapter 1:An Apocalyptic Reunion

Arnold heaved a breath as he and Gerald ducked into the apartment. They had destroyed the remainder of the flimsy wooden staircase with an ax they'd taken from beside a fire alarm switch a few days. Arnold now had the axe firmly grasped in in hands. It was only fair that he have the axe since Gerald had the baseball bat. They shut the door and locked it, bolting it shut. Without speaking a word to each other, Arnold moved to make sure there weren't any broken windows, mostly to keep the cold out. Up this high with the fire escape out of reach it was impossible for the walkers to get to them. Not that walkers were the smartest creatures. Meanwhile, Gerald rushed into the kitchen. It had been three days since they'd found food and water, and their last bag of beef jerky wasn't going to last much longer.

Arnold went into the bedroom and found a disheveled mattress, probably undone from the apartment's original owners. He went to the dresser, hoping to find some new clothes. He hadn't changed since a week after the outbreak. He frowned when he found the dresser empty. That was odd. He heard Gerald step back into the living room and he shut the drawer before moving to meet his friend. Gerald looked just a battered, dirty, and tired as Arnold did. It wasn't too surprising. Arnold didn't like thinking back. He and Gerald had thought that they would be safe in the boardinghouse. Arnold hadn't expected to find its former residents undead. Even Abner hadn't made it. Mr. Hyunh, Mr. Potts, the Kokoshkas, even his grandparents. He knew that they were old and would die, like all grandparents did, but that didn't mean they deserved to be walkers. He knew that they weren't his grandparents anymore, and they never would be again, but it had still been impossible to kill them. They weren't like other walkers. He knew them. It eventually became easier, their faces became a blur, but it still wasn't easy.

"Someone else got here before us. They cleaned out the fridge and the pantry." Gerald said bluntly, an almost military air to his voice. It couldn't be blamed, after what they'd been through. At this point, the important thing was to survive. There wasn't much time for Gerald to be his suave devil-may-care self.

Arnold nodded, not surprised, "They took all the clothes too."

Gerald frowned, "Why would they take the clothes?" Arnold shrugged, just as confused about it as Gerald was. "Well that's not the only weird thing about this place, come on."

Arnold cocked a brow, but followed his friend into the kitchen, unsure of what he was in for. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't what he saw. It was a massive speaker with a wireless connection facing out the street, held up by an air conditioner rack outside the window.

"What in the world." Arnold said, considering reaching out to touch the speaker. "Why would someone leave this?"

Gerald shrugged, "I don't know, man, but look." Gerald handed him a pair of binoculars they had snagged from a convenient store a few days after the outbreak. There were similar speakers set up all along the streets in every other building. "It's way too organized to be an accident."

Arnold frowned. Gerald was right. "Should we go?"

Gerald shook his head, "Let's just disconnect the wireless controller. There could still be stuff here. Besides, it would be nice to sleep on an actual bed tonight."

Arnold smiled faintly, "We aren't spooning again so we'll have to flip for the bed or hope and pray that there's another one."

Gerald smirked and disconnected the speaker, "You're on, bubba."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"What's with that beeping?" A gruff man questioned bluntly.

A young Japanese girl pushed her glasses up her nose as she leaned in towards the computer, her fingers tapping away on the keyboard. "One of our decoys has been disconnected." She answered. "It looks like...the one on 32nd and 9th, apartment twelve."

"Walkers?" he asked, leaning over her to look at the screen.

She shook her head, "Negative, sir. The building was secure when we left it. It could be nothing, but it's still worth looking into."

"Well let's get someone out there." He grumbled.

The girl nodded and smiled faintly, "I'll send out our best."

"You don't do humble well, do you?" He asked, a smirk toying with his mouth.

The girl shrugged, "What's the point in being humble when it's true?"

He shook his head and rolled his eyes, "Just get both your butts back here safe."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"What is that?" Arnold asked, still half asleep as he lumbered towards the bedroom window. He had won the coin toss, leaving Gerald on the sofa. From the bedroom window he didn't have a good enough view so he jogged into the living room and pressed himself against the window with Gerald. "What is that?" he repeated.

"Immigrant Song by Led Zeppelin." Gerald answered, still looking in the dark streets with the binoculars.

Arnold rolled his eyes. He knew what song was playing. He'd heard it plenty of times whenever his grandpa told him the story about how he'd crowd surfed at their concert back in the '70's. Phil Shortman was quite the man so in his teens, Arnold found his grandpa's stories more fascinating than he had when he was a kid. "Is there anyone down there?"

"I don't see anything." Gerald answered shortly.

There was a loud bang at the door and the boys turned for the window, nearly jumping out of their skin. "I thought you knocked the stairs down." Gerald whispered.

"I did." Arnold retorted, holding his ax firmly against his chest. The walkers shouldn't have been able to get to them. Not unless they sprouted wings, and if that was they case they had a lot more problems.

"Fuck this, man. Let's get our shit and climb the fire escape. Most of them'll go back into their holes by morning and we can wait them out."

Arnold nodded in agreement and there was another bang at the door. They collected their bags and opened one of the windows, not bothering to shut it before scrambling up the steps.

Arnold and Gerald did their best to not panic as they rushed up the steps. Arnold suddenly remembered the window and cussed aloud. He had doomed them all because he had been in too much of a hurry to shut the damn window. Arnold almost fell over when he ran into Gerald, who had halted abruptly. Before he could ask Gerald what the hell he was thinking he saw the figure, covered head to toe in black, only their eyes visible and two katanas in their hands. Arnold took a step back, stopping when he felt a cold round pipe against his head. He shut his eyes and raised his hands, all too familiar with the feeling of the barrel of a gun against his head.

"Breathers." The one on Arnold stated, annoyance clear, though their voice was distorted. "Should have known."

The one with the swords slid the blades back into sheaths crossed across their back. "We should take them back to base."

With a groan, the gun was taken away from Arnold's head. "Let's get this over with."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Arnold and Gerald sat uncomfortably in the back, feeling exposed and helpless without their weapons, which the two figures had taken. Nothing could be said of them, save for their powers of persuasion. Still, the thoughts of a base with other normal living breathing people sounded almost too good to be true. This could have been nothing more than a trap. But even that didn't make sense. They had said something about checking for more breathers before heading back. They scanned a few blocks before they proceeded on their route.

When they finally arrived, Arnold and Gerald glanced at each other skeptically. "Big Bob's Electronic Emporium?" Gerald whispered to Arnold, "This is where I got my iPod, not where a base should be."

Arnold frowned. Gerald did have a point. Still, a warehouse did make sense for keeping walkers out. Big Bob must have been paranoid about thieves because of the bulletproof glass and barred windows. Still, his paranoia had paid off for those living here. Or at least the ones that their captors claimed were living here. They pulled the hummer around to the back and through a garage. Arnold and Gerald gaped in awe at all the cars parked in the massive space. There were even six- no! seven- motorcycles. But there was still one thing missing…

"Where are all the people?" Arnold asked cautiously as the driver parked the car.

The Hummer jolted when the brake was set at the driver pulled the keys out of the ignition before they got out.

Arnold and Gerald looked at each other, "Do we get out?" Arnold asked.

His answer was received in the form of one of the black-clad strangers opening his door and the other opening Gerald's. "Keep up." The one with the rifle ordered shortly.

Arnold and Gerald obeyed, still unsure of where they were heading. They walked through a set of doors and found themselves in what could only be described as an armory. Arnold and Gerald stared at the place in awe. There were grenades, dynamite, bows and arrows, even a bazooka wedged in the corner. The one with the gun put the rifle back in its place, but Arnold wasn't oblivious to the two handguns on their belts. The one with the katanas dug into their pockets and put a few grenades and five sticks of dynamite back in their designate area, but made no move to remove their swords.

"About time you two got back." A large man with graying hair snapped as he stepped through the armory, "What in the hell took you two so long?"

"Relax." The one with the firearms retorted, removing their headgear and shaking out their long blonde hair, combing through it with their fingers to make it more presentable. "We found some breathers. That's why we're so late."

Gerald and Arnold stared at the girl in shock. A _girl_!

The big man looked at Arnold and Gerald, who were both in such a state of shock that they didn't realize they were gaping at the girl. It was just so unexpected that she _was _a girl. "So you have."

The other took off their mask and revealed silky, raven black hair that draped down her back and a pair of dark rimmed glasses on her nose. "We could always use the help around here, Mr. Pataki." The other girl piped up.

Gerald stared at the girl, enamored by her. Arnold was just too shocked, and impressed to do anything but gawk at both of the girls.

"Shut your damn trap before I put a bullet in it." The blonde snapped menacingly.

Simultaneously, Arnold and Gerald both obeyed.

The Asian girl laughed and shook her head, "I'm Phoebe, this is Bob Pataki."

"I run this place." Bob informed them briefly.

Phoebe nodded to confirm this before motioning to the blonde girl, "This is Helga."

Helga grunted a greeting to them before peeling off her heavy black jacket and hanging it on a hook nearby, "I'm going to bed."

"Helga, we have to send them to the infirmary and then show them to their rooms." Phoebe chided gently.

Bob shook his head, "You girls have been up all night. I'll get them in."

Phoebe raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure, Mr. Pataki?"

Big Bob nodded, "It's not like I sleep anymore, anyway."

Helga glanced back at Big Bob with a frown before Phoebe agreed and the girls linked arms and moved away. "The black one is kind of cute, don't you think?" Phoebe asked in a whisper.

Helga laughed lightly, "He's not really my type, if you know what I mean."

Phoebe frowned and glanced back at the boys, who were now being lectured about the armory by Big Bob, "Do they look a bit familiar to you?"

Helga shrugged, "I guess. I can't really put a name to their faces."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Helga pulled her lips into her mouth and did her best to not laugh. The blond boy had gotten separated from his friend and he looked like a lost puppy. She chewed the rest of her sandwich before swallowing it. "Hey, new kid." She called. He looked over and she waved for him to sit down across from her. Arnold swallowed a lump in his throat, placing his tray on the table across from her before tentatively sitting. It was only natural for him to be cautious around her. She _had _put a gun to his head not long ago. "How're you liking our little base?" She asked before taking another bite of her sandwich.

Arnold stirred his chili with his spoon before saying, "It's…it's a change."

Helga shrugged, "It normally is. Dad should be able to find somewhere for you and your friend if you've been surviving on your own since the outbreak."

Arnold arched a brow, "Dad?"

She nodded, "Big Bob Pataki."

"Oh." Arnold was genuinely surprised. Helga looked nothing like her father. With her hair combed and without so many weapons on her, she was actually quite pretty. Still blunt and a bit brutal, probably traits she'd acquired from her father, he'd guess, after having spent so much time with Mr. Pataki.

"So where's your friend?" She asked, taking another bit out of her sandwich.

"Gerald?" Arnold said, "He's looking for Phoebe."

Helga snickered, "Oh Pheebs' is gonna love that."

He raised an eyebrow, unsure if she was being facetious or not. Then he realized…he hadn't introduced himself, "I'm Arnold, by the way."

Suddenly, he was showered by a spray of spit and sandwich. Helga stared at him, horrified. "What?" He asked.

She didn't answer, only stood abruptly and rushed away, leaving Arnold alone, staring after her and feeling lonesome.

**Hey guys. Hope you liked it…or…something. Don't forget to review if you want me to continue….k bye.**


	2. Chapter 2:118's Alumni

"Helga, I'd really just like to go to bed." Phoebe groaned as she trudged into her room. It had been another hard day of research and work in the infirmary had done its toll on her. It made her miss scouting days, but even going among the walkers took its toll on her. At least tomorrow she had some free time. It wasn't much, but it was going to be wonderful to not have a list of things to complete before she had a chance at some breakfast.

"This'll only take a second, I promise!" Helga pleaded, shutting the door behind them.

Phoebe rolled her eyes and sat on her bed and started to kick off her sneakers, "You have until I'm dressed."

"You know the breathers we brought in last night?" Helga asked in a rushed tone, knowing that once Phoebe was in her pajamas the conversation was over.

Phoebe raised an eyebrow and peeled off her socks before shoving them into her empty shoes, "Yeah, what about them?"

Helga bit her bottom lip, unsure of how to say what she was thinking. It was probably stupid. Hell, there were fucking zombies running amuck in her city, yet all she could think about was the fact that she and her friend had just recently rescued a particular boy who she had been in madly in love with before he and his friend had left Hillwood's public school system to attend Hillwood Height's middle and high school on sport's scholarships. Everyone had gone their separate ways after that, bleeding into new social groups and making new friends. The P.S. 118 gang had long since desisted, save for a few who stayed together, for the sake of nostalgia if nothing else. Helga and Phoebe had always been thick as thieves. Sid, Stinky, and Harold were all still friends in high school. God only really knew where those three idiots were. Probably dead. Nadine and Rhonda had still been close into their junior year. Still, Helga hadn't forgotten about Arnold. Sure, his face faded into memory, but how could she forget someone she had been so senselessly in love with for almost half of her life? Finally, after what felt like eons, Helga said, "Do you remember…ice cream?"

Phoebe rolled her eyes, "We had ice cream on the Forth of July. Of course I remember ice cream."

"No, Phoebe." Helga said with a sigh…. "_Ice cream._"

Suddenly, Phoebe realized what Helga was saying and she gasped, "They aren't."

"They are!" Helga exclaimed.

"Well it's been almost six years. I'm sure any feelings you had won't reemerge. I mean…you were a kid." Phoebe said, trying to be comforting. Helga glanced at Phoebe, her look silently inquiring if her friend was serious. Phoebe was fully aware of all the therapy Helga had gone through. True, she was her own person now. She didn't need to crave Arnold like she had when she was a lovesick nine year old girl, but Dr. Bliss had made it clear to Helga that her feelings hadn't depleted any, just…gone dormant. She went on a date, she thought of how much better it would have been with Arnold, she watched a chick flick, she thought of Arnold. She had become a faceless blur to her, but now he was here and he was real again. Everything had been moving so fast since the outbreak. Helga hadn't been given the choice to feel anything. Olga was at Wellington College still, and it was likely Helga wouldn't see her sister again. She didn't even have time to mourn her mother's death. She had her father had been too busy surviving, keeping the base going. It seemed like hardly anything on the outside, but her father had became intensely paranoid, for good reason. He had had almost a half a square mile of protection from the walkers underground. He had been eager to rip out the music recording studio under the emporium out first, but Helga had insisted that he keep it, promising that if for some reason his fortress was needed she would stay in the recording studio. She'd kept true to her word, but music wasn't the escape it used to be. It was hard for her to write anything, but journal entrees anymore. "Right…sorry." Phoebe said at last, slipping her jeans off and throwing them into the corner. "So what did he say when you told him who you were?"

Helga frowned, suddenly feeling stupid, "I didn't tell him…I sort of panicked and accidentally spit a bunch of my sandwich on him."

Phoebe laughed, "I'm sure that was a surprise for him."

Helga groaned, "It gets worse. I have to show him the ropes tomorrow."

Phoebe raised an eyebrow, "Shouldn't he have done that yesterday?"

Helga shook her head, "Dad says they were falling asleep on the tour today so he sent them to bed."

Phoebe shrugged, "We did barge in on them at three A.M. and didn't get back to base until about nine."

Helga sighed, "Yeah, I guess."

Phoebe pulled her oversized tee shirt on, finally ready for bed. Helga knew this meant the conversation was over, "You'll be fine."

Helga rolled her eyes, "Yeah, I torture him in grade school and then when I see him for the first time in years the first thing I do I put a gun to his head."

Phoebe rolled her eyes and slid under her covers, "It's the apocalypse, Helga, I'm sure he'll understand. You'll be fine…now go away, I'm tired."

Helga smiled and bid her best friend goodnight before leaving, heading for the recording studio that doubled as her room. Every musical instrument they'd managed to save was in the white space. There weren't as many as she wished there were. Still, food and supplies were the priority. She knew and respected this, but she still thought it was a measly collection for the massive collection of people in the base. Once she had raided a music store for guitar strings and picks. Now there was more than enough strings and picks to last any musician a lifetime. There were only two refugees, besides Helga, who really had any interest in music and one was a young boy by the name of Derek. He was about eleven years old and had managed to make it to the base by being careful and smart. He wasn't much as far as warriors went, but he pulled his weight, just like everyone else did. In his spare time he liked to come to the studio and try to learn the guitar. In Helga's spare time she liked to teach him what she knew. There weren't many kids in the base and a spark of innocence was welcome to her. She peeled off her shirt and stepped into the room. She glanced at an offwhite electric Gibson and lazily strummed it. A smile toyed with her mouth and she went to the other side of the large room and lightly tapped on the snare of the drum kit with her fingers. Without a word, she rushed out of her room to find him. He'd certainly take advantage of this new situation, and that was fine by her.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Arnold swallowed a lump in his throat as he knocked on Mr. Pataki's door. He wasn't very fond of Bob Pataki. Something about him made him uneasy, like a bad dream from his past. On the other side there was a shuffling of feet before the door opened. Bob towered over Arnold and stared down at him angrily, "You're supposed to be with the girl."

Arnold steadied a shaky breath, "Yes sir, it's just…well no one answered the door."

Half of Bob's unibrow climbed his forehead. That was odd. Since the breakout Helga was usually prompt and efficient since the outbreak. She was still stubborn as a mule and as prickly as a cactus, but she was still prompt. "Let's go see what's going on."

Arnold followed Bob at a brisk pace and when they arrived at the door, Bob pounded loudly on the door. Like Arnold had said, there wasn't an answer. With a groan, Bob pulled out a key and unlocked the door. What they saw wasn't what Arnold expected at all. Helga was leaning over a control panel with a set of massive noise canceling earphones on, a giddy smile on her face. Next to her, spinning in an office chair, was a boy, about his age, with light blonde hair and glasses. The boy got one look at Mr. Pataki and without a word he slipped his headphones off, placed them on the chair and rushed out of the room without as much as a hello. Arnold watched after the boy awkwardly as Mr. Pataki laughed. It wasn't until Helga noticed that her companion was gone that she slid off her own headphones and turned around to see her father and Arnold…and a clock. "Oh shit!" She exclaimed.

To Arnold's surprise, Bob Pataki laughed, "It's been a while since you've used this waste of money."

She stuck her tongue out at her father before grabbing a sweater off her bed and pulling it over her head, "No one has any money anymore so that's irrelevant." She retorted.

Bob Pataki smirked and shook his head, "Just keep better track of time next time."

She nodded before ushering Arnold out of her room and towards the mess hall. One thing was certain…she was going to need a caffeine today. "Was that your boyfriend?" Arnold asked casually.

Before she could answer, a fit of laughter broke the air, not hers, but the boy's who had been deafened with her. "As if anyone would be Helga's boyfriend." He teased.

She put a hand on his shoulder before punching him in the stomach, not hard enough to cause any serious damage, but hard enough to get her point across. "No, this nimrod isn't my boyfriend."

The boy cringed in disgust, "Can you imagine?" Helga made a disgusted noise and shook her head, making him laugh. "Who's the new guy?"

"Arnold, this is Brian, Brian this is Arnold." Helga introduced them briefly.

Brian extended his hand and Arnold shook it. "Arnold, huh? I haven't known an Arnold since grade school."

Arnold chuckled, "I actually went to grade school around here."

"P.S. 118?" Brian asked skeptically.

"Yeah!" Arnold exclaimed excitedly.

"Me too!" Brian mirrored Arnold's excitement, glad for some sense of normalcy.

"No way. What class?" Arnold asked.

"Mr. Simmons in forth and fifth grade and Mrs. Horton in sixth." Brian answered.

"No you didn't." Arnold countered. "I had Mr. Simmons in forth and fifth and I don't remember a Brian."

Brian shrugged, "No one stopped calling me Brainy until I was in eighth grade."

"Oh my god, _Brainy_?" Arnold exclaimed.

Brian's brows furrowed, "You're not telling me you're the Geek Party Arnold, are you?"

Arnold laughed, "This is crazy!"

Helga smirked, but it was twined with sadness that Arnold would remember Brainy, but forget about her.

"I'm surprised you haven't noticed the other P.S. 118 alumnus here too." Brian snickered.

Helga glared at him and made a motion with her finger across her throat, indicating that she would kill him, but it was too late.

"Really?" Arnold asked. "Who else went to 118?"

**Sorry I know it's a cliffhanger, but I'm kind of sick and wanna take a nap so…I'm cutting this chapter a little short. Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review! They motivate me to keep writing these things. **

**P.S. You may have noticed, I changed my name on here. I just did it because that's my web name for like everything else like my tumblr and instagram and crap so it was just bugging me. K bye, don't forget to review…again. **


	3. Chapter 3: A Risky Invitation

Helga rolled her eyes, "Well since you two seem to be getting along maybe _Brainy_ should give you the tour."

"What?" Arnold asked, looking disheartened.

"Yeah, what?" Brainy parroted.

Helga smirked and seized a bran muffin before turning to return to her room, "That way I can get some sleep before Phoebe and I go scouting."

"But why do I have to do it?" Brainy snapped.

"Because _you _don't go scouting." she retorted, leaving him quiet.

Brainy glanced at Arnold, who shrugged, watching Helga vanish back into her room, slamming the door behind her. "What's her problem?" Arnold asked once she'd gone, unsure of what else to say.

Brainy shrugged, "You know Helga. When things get tough she gets tougher."

Arnold blinked before it dawned on him. _That_ was Helga Pataki! The girl who had tortured him mercilessly in grade school. The girl who hit him with more spit balls than he dared to count. The girl who was blustery, cynical, and crude at the young age of nine. How had that mean and, frankly, somewhat ugly little girl transform into…_that_? A beautiful, though still frightening, young woman.

Still, as he followed Brainy around, letting his former classmate show him the ins and out of the establishment, Arnold's mind wandered. She hadn't truly been quite _that _bad. True, her bark was sharp and he bite was harder, but there had always been softness and kindness in the Helga he used to know. They had once spent Thanksgiving together, unable to bear the peculiarities and the blissfully ignorance of their own families. Another time she had won a dinner for four at some fancy Parisian restaurant and she had proven to be rather cultured and sophisticated. His grandfather had told him about how Helga had secretly informed him of her father's weak point, giving them a higher place in the parent's day competition.

She had kept her sensitivity hidden. Perhaps she had viewed it as weakness. Perhaps that's what she was still doing, only with a taller and thicker wall.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Hey Helga, how's it going?"

Without making a sound, Helga spun around, pistol cocked and ready to fired, aiming straight between Arnold's eyes. When she realized it was only him, she groaned, annoyed, before shoving the gun back into her belt. "I realize you're new here, but sneaking up on people is a really fucking stupid thing to do."

Arnold swallowed a lump in his throat, still in a bit of a state of shock at having had a gun held to his head with her finger on the trigger….again. "S-sorry." He finally managed to spit out, still feeling just as foolish as he was sure he looked.

"I'm getting ready to go out with Phoebe so I'm just peachy." Helga said shortly. It wasn't she loaded another gun and shoved it into a holster she'd fashioned on one of her black knee-high combat boots that Arnold realized she had just answered the question he had opened with.

"Oh. Well that sounds…frightening." he replied cautiously. "Isn't it a bit dangerous to go out at night? I mean, what could you guys be looking for that's so important you need to risk your lives?"

She glared at him, not an angry glare, but an annoyed one. "We're looking for a way out."

Arnold blinked a few times, confused by her meaning, "What?"

Helga rolled her eyes. "We can't stay in the city forever."

"You're planning and exodus?" Arnold asked.

She nodded once, curt and final. "My grandmother had a huge place out in the country and that's where we're going to go." There was no secret there. Everyone already knew that, save for Arnold and Gerald. They were new, after all. They couldn't be expected to know all the plans of the refuge they had stayed in. It felt like a lifetime, and Helga had been ready to leave since the walkers had taken over the city. It wasn't nearly so bad now. The walkers were slow and many had been reduced to eating each other. It was gruesome, yes, but it had lessened the swarms by tenfold. Still, supplies were dwindling and space was growing tight. Their exodus would be soon.

Helga would have been worried about what happened when they arrived to the country, but it truly didn't bother her in the slightest. Her grandmother had been touring Paris two days before the outbreak hit and she hadn't left anyone to watch her house. The house was more of a mansion with well over a hundred rooms, most of which went unused. Then there were the guest houses, of which there were five. It had been decided that one of those would be the infirmary. If the horses were still there then the stables would maintain their use and the acres of open land would be fenced off with electric wire. Electricity wouldn't kill the walkers, but if they exposed themselves to it long enough their nervous systems would fry, making them perfectly harmless and sometimes frying their brains, leaving them limp and dead.

Helga knew it would be a lot of work and that a small group would have to go ahead to ready the new settlement and it was likely she and Phoebe would be leading the dozen or so refugees that were able and willing to volunteer. Still, she looked forward to that day. She missed being able to lay out in the grass and feel the sun pound down on her skin. She was alive, but this place was still a prison. And if she had to be a prisoner then she wanted a bigger cell.

"Oh." Arnold said at last, unable to think of anything else to say. "Well I was wondering, if you'd like, if you'd like to have breakfast with me when you get back."

She stopped readying herself for the perils of the outside world. Where had this question been when she was nine? Back when they actually might have had a chance, even if they were just childhood sweethearts and nothing more. Why would he ask this now? Was he really so blind? Or was he just stupid. "What're you doing?" She demanded, packing away a few sticks of dynamite.

He blinked, awkwardly, before saying, "I was asking if you'd like to eat a meal with me."

"Like a date." It wasn't a question and she said it with anger to hide the frustration and the pain.

"Well I guess so."

"This isn't the kind of world for romance Arnold." and with that, she left him in the armory, stomping away to find Phoebe, more eager than before to get away.

**I know it's kind of short and I'm sorry for that but here it is! Hope you guys liked it. Don't forget to review. ****Auf Wiedersehen****!**


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